Tired, Happy, Worried, Tired

Things are good. I'm almost ten weeks along. At first I was really anxious and careful, I moved like I was made of glass, and was afraid of miscarrying from stress or exercise. Everything I had to do (climbing stairs, lifting and carrying boxes, taking a trip by plane), I instantly thought about the pregnancy, and then felt upset because it was all required for work, not anything I could get out of. As soon as I got home from work each day, I'd lie flat on my back, hoping to cancel out the day's worth of activity.

I've relaxed a lot now. For one, I seem to have come through all the stressful stuff fine (still pregnant, anyway), which gives me confidence that this baby isn't as fragile as I thought. For another, I don't really feel that pregnant. At first the knowledge occupied my every waking moment. Now there are whole afternoons when I completely forget about it. I haven't gained any weight, despite my best efforts. The first few weeks I ate at every possible opportunity, and even drank protein shakes before bed. Didn't gain a pound. I'm about to give up on trying and just let my body do what it wants, assuming the weight will come naturally in its own good time.

I'm really tired these days. Supposedly that is a common symptom of pregnancy. In my case it's because I started a second job, the kind of thing I can do from home. I wanted to get it underway now and then have it as an option to earn some money during my maternity leave. It is bringing in extra money, which is great, but it's also quite a time commitment. No more time for naps at the end of the work day. I worked a lot over Thanksgiving and will have to work every night and every weekend day for the next month, just to keep up. I feel like I'm running all the time, and never get a chance to rest. Of course that's not true. But the feeling of being harried, and being overwhelmed, never quite goes away. I haven't even had time to find a doctor yet, which is something I really need to do.

On the happy front, in those moments when I'm not actively working or worrying, I just close my eyes and feel gloriously happy. Having a baby is something I've dreamed about most of my life, that I was afraid would never happen. I'm so excited and glad. It's brought a particular tender new dynamic to my relationship with my husband, which I love.

I do get flashes of worry - not just about the regular practical things, like will I be able to avoid a C-section and will the baby be healthy and can we afford it - but about the long-term implications. Things we do now without a second thought, like spontaneously deciding to go to a movie and walking out the front door to make the next showing at the theater down the street, will be things we can never do after we have a baby. Or spending a whole day at a museum. Or going to lunch with friends. Or (gulp) sleeping more than three hours at a stretch. I'm anxious about the potential damage this will do to our day-to-day happiness. I don't want him to feel that I brought this on him before he was ready, or for him to get the brunt of the negative changes while I bask in the joy of motherhood. I will do my best to make it easy on him, but there's no getting around the fact that a baby will throw a lot of the pleasant aspects of our life together out of whack. So, we'll just enjoy our freedom while we have it, and keep our fingers crossed.

Then and Now

Feeling happy and lucky today. Sometimes I think back to my college days, or even high school, which were wonderful times. I remember staying up all night talking with my friends about life, the universe, and everything - the kick-ass play that we wrote together in high school - the afternoons I spent sitting on my dorm windowsill overlooking the quad, full of angst and loneliness, feelings of such overwhelming sadness that it was like a fierce joy inside me. I was usually lovelorn over some guy or another - or over love in general. It was how I wanted to be. The experiences I had in those growing-up years made me who I am, and I am glad to have had them. But when I compare that life to my life now, I can see that I have a baseline level of happiness now that I only used to achieve then on a particularly good day. Back then, I was ecstatic if I saw the guy I loved on my way to math class, if we exchanged a wave or a few moments of platonic conversation. Now, I get to see the guy I love every day. I get to kiss him! I'm allowed to hold him, and see affection in his eyes looking back at me. It seems nearly too good to be true.

Where's Erin??

I'm here! I just haven't been writing much, and I'm not sure why. I think I am reluctant to talk about being pregnant in my blog because so much of it is really personal. Not that I haven't written about personal topics before. This just feels like something I want to keep folded close for a while. And, it seems silly to blog about what I saw at the bus-stop or the little intricacies of friendship, when the pregnancy feels so overwhelmingly important and exciting to me right now. It's like saying "pass the butter" when there are fireworks going off right outside your window.

I haven't told anyone yet except for my family and a couple of friends. I'm afraid of jinxing myself. I especially haven't told anyone at work. Partly because that's the thing to do, you're supposed to soldier on through the morning sickness and not let anyone notice, because in case you have a first-trimester miscarriage you don't want to then go around to ALL your colleagues and explain that you are not, after all, having a baby. So that's a good practical reason. But also, I just don't feel like sharing anything that is close and special to me with people at work. I feel like they wouldn't appreciate it, so I don't want to "waste" it on them. I felt the same way when I got engaged, I didn't tell them until I had to (because I needed to ask for time off for the honeymoon). They acted happy for me when I finally told them. But my overriding feeling is that these people are not my friends, they don't understand me or what makes me tick, and it's not safe to bare my soul to them. I hold myself apart from them and share as little as possible. It has to do, I think, with their assignation of me to the lowest rank in the pecking order, and my refusal to accept that.

So for now, it's our secret. I have started sneakily wearing stretch pants because I could no longer fit into any of my regular work pants. I looove the stretch pants! They don't squeeze me at all. They are more amazingly comfortable than I thought any piece of clothing could be. I have not gained any weight yet, but my belly is pushing out a little bit. So I guess some other part of me has lost weight to compensate.

I'll write when I can, or when I can think of something good to post. In the meantime, thanks for bearing with the intermittent updates and for still reading my blog. :)